


jilted.

by 1roomdisco



Series: KBS TV. [3]
Category: Day6 (Band), Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Actors, Childhood Friends, Cliffhangers, First Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Questions, School Reunion, TV Tropes, i'm so EXCITED about this one pls, intentional plot hole, istg i feel bad for jae, please read the fics in order for better understanding lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 15:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15561132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1roomdisco/pseuds/1roomdisco
Summary: Jae was in love with his high school best friend.





	jilted.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>   
>  KBS TV. series' fic order:
> 
> 1\. [fragile.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090370)  
> wonpil meets bartender slash rookie actor sungjin who 'confronts' him about his feelings for jae, his childhood bff.
> 
> 2\. [unwritten.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570971)  
> then wonpil gets to work at KBS as assistant junior scriptwriter, where he's guided by junior scriptwriter kihyun, who's currently in this vague flirting phase with rising star actor hyunwoo—whom jae had (prolly still has) feelings for back when they were classmates in high school.
> 
> 3\. jilted.  
> (insert your own take here, later in the comment).  
>   
>   
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jae leaves Wonpil on read.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jae picked up a habit to read the horoscope spread in his sister’s bi-weekly magazine back when he was in junior high. The magazine was obviously aimed for teenage girls, not boys, but back then Jae believed by knowing what kind of Virgo he is would help him a great deal; he grew up owning his sensitive side. He learned not to take himself seriously since Virgo tends to be slightly neurotic about stuffs that shouldn’t really matter that much.

He remembers scoffing and snickering at himself when he found out that he, a Virgo, won’t have a great chance of romance with a Gemini.

Today, he’s got nothing to do. Not even checking English grammar for a senior. The whole office is still bustling alive, however, having acquired a big case on a corruption scandal from a quite notorious construction company. Jae is in the team, but he’d done his job yesterday. Lunch break is in half an hour, and he’s had enough of BuzzFeed contents.

He types ‘Virgo today’ on Naver and apparently his ruling planet, Mercury, is currently retrograde, whatever the hell that is. He better not be having anything related to seafood until the week’s over. His way midweek involves a high-spirited sense of purpose that refuses to get bogged down in money or work problems.

And;

_Single: is the door to your heart still open for someone from the past?_

As much as Jae hates to admit it, there’s a pang in his chest upon reading the romance section. He can’t help but to click on the ‘Gemini’ page and reads that Gemini will have a rather uneventful week. If they’re in a relationship, then they can spice up thing in bed this coming weekend—and if they’re single, the compatibility they’re looking for in that special someone is already there, they just have to make it work.

Yeah, no. None of it is in Jae’s favor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He could have typed his name on Naver. Jae has seen his face all over the subway, after all, the new spokesperson for SK Telecom, promoting about data plan bonus. He looks _good_. Crazy good. Still as buff as he was back then, if not even more, his wide and sturdy shoulders filling up the sleek midnight dark blue shirt he’s wearing, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The veins in his tanned arms are not photoshopped, they’re there, like marks of masculinity Jae will never have no matter how hard he smashed the shuttlecock or played his guitar.

The black hair is styled nicely, making his ever-present boyish look even more prominent, especially with how he’s smiling like _that_ ; with the apples of his cheeks lifted up, with his eyes crinkling, and with his plump lips—what a nice, subtle red color on him—smiling warmly to the camera. There’s no other word to describe that same smile Hyunwoo has always had since they were young, it is the smile that had broken girls’ hearts who had thought they had a chance with the school’s handsome robot.

Jae sighs, closing his eyes, determined not to stare back at Hyunwoo right in front of him as he sways on the last train home, because even if you didn’t have work to do you still have to stay in the office until everyone else finished theirs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Jae wakes up, he can recall his dream vividly.

And of course it was about the godforsaken moment he realized he was in love with his high school best friend.

The fragments of moment still attached to his subconscious are bringing his sleep-muddled mind back to when it all began, back when Hyunwoo was the new transfer student arriving a month after the new school year started. Jae remembers Hyunwoo was awarded a sports scholarship from the president himself. Hyunwoo was the nation’s U-16 swimming champion, and their school, a prestigious private school with international curriculum, has the best swimming pool and sports program in the entire Korean peninsula.

Back then, their homeroom teacher Mrs. Choi, assigned Hyunwoo to sit with Jae, only because he was the only student without a seatmate.

And just like any other youth drama’s setting, they were sitting at the back of the class, convenient for their tall statures, right by the windows overlooking the soccer field.

But that was not when Jae realized he’s in love with Hyunwoo.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“Did you think you can avoid me forever, hyung?!”_

“Not so loud. Geez.”

Wonpil whines, apologizing loudly.

“When will you arrive?” Jae asks, letting the loudness slide. He can hear Wonpil breathing in a ragged rhythm from the other side of the phone; he’s probably jogging to get here. They’re having lunch at a Chinese restaurant located two stations away from both respective workplaces. Today is payday, they’re allowed to take a longer lunchtime.

“I’m here!” Wonpil announces, still being loud, as the door chimes open with a twinkling from the bell. “Jae-hyung!” he yells, hopping like a bunny to where Jae is sitting. Their table gets the view of the quiet neighborhood alley.

Jae smiles, not bothering to scold Wonpil anymore. They’ve known each other for two decades, it will always be in Wonpil’s intention to be loud whenever he’s around Jae.

They saw each other just last weekend when Jae went to The Kims house, right next to his, to have dinner.

Wonpil sits down noisily, complaining about Seoul’s scorching summer heat. Jae says nobody told you to _run_ , and Wonpil pouts, burying his face to read the menu.

Of course, a bowl of jajjangmyun is a perfect choice.

While waiting for Jae to cite their order to the waiter, Wonpil nibbles on the yellow pickled radish, frowning cutely.

And when the waiter is gone, he shoots, without any preamble,

“Hyung, I _know_ you read my Kakao.”

“Heh,” Jae clears his throat, loosening today’s black, slim tie. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Wonpil clicks his tongue. Years of being friends can never erase Jae’s wonder on how could someone be this cute. Everything that Wonpil does is cute, like him clicking his tongue in a weak protest.

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” he whines.

Jae chuckles, swallowing dryly. “Hey, I’m thankful.”

“But he was your best friend!” Wonpil juts out his bottom lip. “No, wait, _second_ best friend. I’m the first.” They make a matching, disgusted face at each other when Wonpil says it before bursting out laughing like they’re not adults.

Wonpil wheezes. Cutely. “Anyway, you know that he’s an actor, right?”

“Yeah.” Jae nods, sipping his iced lemon tea to calm his nerves.

“He asked about you when I met him,” Wonpil says, “he smelled so good.”

Jae rolls his eyes.

But he’s curious. “Where did you meet him?” he asks, nonchalantly, because he knows he’s going to search Hyunwoo on the internet later, since it’s inevitable. Hyunwoo is on his road to become famous, searching his name on Naver is the least that Jae can do to boost up his popularity. Hyunwoo’s name is on Naver’s top 10 searched list this morning, Jae had found out when he went there to read his daily horoscope.

“At KBS, _duh!_ ” Wonpil answers, shifting on the wooden chair to cross his legs. “I told him that you’re a lawyer now.”

“Good,” Jae hums, and because it would be weird not to ask, “how was he?”

“The same! Oh my god, hyung, your Robotnu didn’t change at all! So tall and broad. Still tanned. Like I said, he smelled so good. Do you remember the junior scriptwriting sunbae that I work with? Apparently, they’re friends.” Wonpil chirps happily, taking his second yellow pickled radish.

“That’s nice,” Jae nods, glad that Wonpil can’t hear his thundering heartbeats. “What kind of drama are you working on right now?”

Wonpil tuts, completely ignoring Jae’s not-so-subtle attempt to change the topic. “Did you even watch his drama, hyung? He got the best supporting actor award from KBS.”

“I didn’t, and you didn’t tell me anyway.” Jae shrugs, already finishing half of his iced lemon tea.

“I told you to stop subscribing to Netflix! Love your own motherland production!” Wonpil scoffs. Cutely. Jae laughs, kicking Wonpil’s shoes gently.

“Hyunwoo-hyung told me he’s on a break. His Running Man episode will air on SBS this Sunday.”

“Okay.”

“His manager usually has his phone, but he will reply in the end like, hours later, depending on his schedule.”

“Obviously.”

“Let’s have a drink with him, hyung, he promised he will make time for us.”

“Sure thing.” Jae smiles—hopefully he does—looks away, and when the lull in their conversation is awkward enough, he repeats himself, “So what kind of drama you’re working on right now, Wonpillie?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The color is all wrong.

Everything he’s watching on his laptop isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Hyunwoo should have had droplets of sweat decorating the tips of his fringe, his thick eyebrows, with them racing down his sideburns to the sharp line of his jaw because the guy sweats bucket at any given time. The smile should have been goofier than the one he’s displaying for the camera, but then again he’s acting as someone else’s—a girl’s—first love in his big screen debut. He shouldn’t have been wearing a school uniform; it should have been a plain white t-shirt that’s drenched in sweat, creating darker spots around his neck, chest, armpits, and back, so broad and sturdy even when they were just two seventeen-year-old boys having an evening run at Han River on a very crowded Saturday since Hyunwoo needed to keep fit for the upcoming swimming competition and Jae had always been there, the constant companion for the champion, and that was the exact moment when Jae realized he’s in love with his best friend.

(The movie is titled ‘Incomplete’. Hyunwoo appeared for ten minutes and fifteen seconds throughout the whole ninety-minutes indie coming of age drama, and he was twenty when he filmed it. That movie was his big screen debut that received a warm welcome, though according to his Naver profile, he had a gap in his acting career since he focused on graduating university first to get his degree in English. Hyunwoo represented Korea on the last Asian Games and was a bronze medalist for 100M swimming category. At the start of his career as an actor, he taught swimming lesson to kids at the swimming club he joined when he was a kid, got street-casted as a model for a young designer called MonX, and helped his father’s small shipping business.

Jae didn’t know about all that. He decided to study in Auckland, New Zealand, when he was nineteen, getting off the radar on purpose.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jae puts Hyunwoo’s number that’s linked to Hyunwoo’s KakaoTalk account in his phone. He names him ‘Son Hyunwoo’ and does nothing about it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, probably because Hyunwoo is basically everywhere; in the subway, at the supermarket, his face printed on the bus—his mother brings him up in their dinner conversation. Jae still lives with his parents, while his older sister has a job at Gangwon, up north, and she’s usually coming home twice a month.

His mother says, completely out of the blue, “That actor Hyunwoo. You guys were close. I remember Hyunwoo eating the veggies on your bowl because you hated them. Jihee preyed on him, right? He was such a handsome boy.”

To which his older sister proceeds to laugh like a witch she is, adding, “Gosh, I was so used to our gangly Jae so whenever Hyunwoo was staying over it was like a fresh view. Rawr~”

“Aah! That’s so disturbing oh my god,” Jae giggles, only because everything _was_ true. “You didn’t touch him whatsoever, right?” he accuses jokingly, setting aside said veggies in his rice bowl.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Jihee growls before hitting Jae’s arm, glaring at him, “I had a boyfriend! Anyone else with functioning eyes would also look at Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Tch,” Jae pouts, rubbing his arm, not exactly arguing with such universal fact.

Now his father is joining in. “Good kid. Quiet. Didn’t look like the type to be an entertainer.”

Jae nods. His throat is dry.

“Do you still have his contact, Jaehyung-ah?” his mother asks, voice dripping with nostalgic fondness. “I remember he had liked my beef stew. Tell him I wouldn’t mind to have him coming over to have it again.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Work is slow. He’s done his part. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to wait for his team to finish their job before he can go home. He has another hour to kill. Checking Instagram should be fine.

There’s a new direct message.

It’s from one of his old friends, Jiho, who used to have dreads but is now a very famous underground rapper. His account, @woo_zico, Zico being his stage name, has that tiny verified blue sign. How in the world did Jiho get his Instagram, @jaelord, is beyond him. It’s a nice surprise, though, they got along well since junior high, and they were classmates for three years in high school.

The message itself is even more surprising.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he was studying in Auckland for three years, he met Matthew, Amber, Ashley, and Woosung. They’re party animals, and Jae doesn’t mind letting loose in a club every once in a while. Tonight, because work knocked them out, they’re just having dinner at Amber’s colleague restaurant, and they get first drink on the house.

So what do a bunch of adults do when they’re gathering with good wine and great food?

They complain.

“What’s new, seriously? I can’t keep up with anything nowadays.” Woosung says, sighing long and hard. He works as a junior prosecutor.

“Nothing’s new,” Amber says, grinning, “but we need sun.”

“Hear, hear,” Ashley raises her glass, huffing. “Bali, anyone?”

“I can’t,” Matthew scoffs, “big pitching coming. Maybe next month?” he’s in the advertising industry, starting his own agency with ten other people. He’s the busiest among them all.

Jae wonders out loud, cutting off the topic entirely. “Guys, if you were me, would you go to your high school reunion?”

It takes just a millisecond for Amber to answer. “And by ‘if we were you’, you mean someone who refuses to have Facebook, Twitter, and using an otaku-like name for his Instagram so his old friends won’t find him on the internet?” she winks at Jae for a very effective taunting effect. “’Course I would. What’s the harm?”

Ah. That.

“Your ugly face is telling me that that there’s a possibility of a disaster,” Amber continues, gulping the rest of her wine in one go. “Spill.” She demands, putting down her glass loudly.

Jae flips her a fingerheart and Amber sends him a kiss.

“You know, just,” Jae mumbles, “the reason why I fled the country _might_ be there.”

Matthew laughs. Amber and Ashley are cooing. Woosung is patting his back. The restaurant’s tranquil setting with its dimmed lights and lounge music is deluding Jae into some kind of false sense of security. He has never told anyone, not even Wonpil, about what he feels—no, _felt_ , for Hyunwoo.

“Sorry,” Matthew sucks up a big breath, his massive shoulders shaking. “Sorry. Just like Batman said, you gotta face your fear, man! Once and for all. High school was, like, what? Ten years ago? You’re no longer the same kid you used to be, bro. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m with him,” Ashley nods, her nails are painted like the [galaxy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcgT1eq3CLM). “Is it an ex, Jae? It will be fine. I don’t know if you had a bad breakup or what, but it’s been years. Feelings change. I can say this because I was in your shoes. Still keeping touch with him now that he’s in, I dunno, Finland? You’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine,” Amber repeats the mantra, putting one hand on her chest where her heart is. “Time heals.”

“You’ll be fine,” Woosung tells him, looking serious, “we only live once. Do whatever you want, Jae, go if you must, stay home if you don’t.”

Jae smiles, feeling the warmth in his blood, the relaxation in his fake sobbing, and wails in a high-pitched tone, “Why are we so mushy? I love you all, what the hell.”

And then they complain some more.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The reunion is next Friday.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t the happiest time, back then.

People say first love is the sweetest, but nah. Not Jae’s. He agonized for _months_ , alone, before making peace with his seventeen-year-old self that yes, he’s in love with his best friend, a boy, someone who loved to eat (something that Jae couldn’t provide because he would burn the kitchen), someone who was so, so simple who exceled in math (something that Jae took advantage of because Hyunwoo was a good tutor), someone who was so beautiful inside and out because Hyunwoo was… everything anyone could ever wanted. If Jae was a lesser man, _boy_ , he would have envied him for someone that he would never be, but Jae was not a lesser boy he was just in love.

And Hyunwoo didn’t know, of course he didn’t. His Robotnu nickname wasn’t for nothing. Hyunwoo had told Jae that he was afraid of girls, afraid of breaking them if he so much touched them, but he was head over heels for a college noona he often rode the subway with, [a tall girl with shoulder-length rainbow colored hair](https://youtu.be/N8li7q8WMBY?t=5m59s) who never gave Hyunwoo a second glance no matter how _not_ subtle Hyunwoo was, Jae knew, because he was curious and wanted to tease his best friend and she was pretty, she really was, but Hyunwoo was afraid.

That was when Jae hadn’t realized the collective sympathy he had felt for his best friend wasn’t his obnoxious _now we’ll be staying single until graduating lmao_ but relief. A selfish one.

He agonized, he made peace, and tried to erase his feelings by tracking back to the things that Hyunwoo did that he had thought he hated. Apparently, he loved everything about his best friend that not even his dumb laugh, his ugly haircut that one time when they were eighteen, his habit to gnaw on his thumb when he’s thinking hard, his subconscious manspread on public transportation… nothing could erase his feelings. Jae loved them all he wrote a song about Hyunwoo’s gentle way to break off a fight between Jiho and Hyuk, when his sole presence was enough to put an end to the fistfight, how he didn’t have to raise his voice to get everyone to come back to their senses _we will be graduating soon, please, be kind to yourself, guys_ —and Jae had jokingly declared to Hyunwoo _I love you, man, wow,_ as they went to 7-11 to buy ice cream later that day and Hyunwoo had grinned toothily at him, nodding.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jae is proud to say that his nickname, Jaechicken, wasn’t given to him because he was a coward, no. He just looks like one, especially like the animation character Chicken Little from the 2005 Disney movie.

So he takes a deep breath, holds it in for ten seconds, and releases it through his mouth.

His dirty blonde hair is looking good. His round, fake specs are a nice accessory to his whole professional look; he’s wearing a cream colored camp collar shirt to work today, earning praises from his seniors because Jae never really went for casual Friday look on Friday. His black, pencil trousers are accentuating his long legs, and his pair of black Doc Martens are shiny. He sprayed cologne at the subway station’s restroom earlier.

He’s fashionably late by fifteen minutes.

The first person he sees is Jiho, in all of his bling bling hip hop glory. Jiho looks so different, like a proper celebrity. Hyuk is sitting beside him, looking even more handsome than Jae remembered, and everyone else is here, in the VIP room of a high end Japanese restaurant; Kyung and Baekhyun the class’ talented clowns, Lizzy the class’ vitamin, Myungsoo, Yura the giggly class president, Hani, Sunmi—they all are cheering when Jae pokes his head in and he makes a round to hug each and every one of them.

Hyunwoo is already sitting at the corner with Hyunsik, and Jae’s Auckland Squad’s encouraging voices are telling him to go there, to man up and sit next to the one who made him leave.

Hyunsik has more lines around his eyes as he smiles, proudly wearing his Navy uniform.

Hyunwoo looks just exactly like Wonpil told him. Tall, broad, tanned. Just exactly like his mother and older sister said; handsome, wearing a simple and oversized black t-shirt tucked into ripped, black jeans.

“Hey,” Hyunwoo greets him first, standing up to shake Jae’s hand and enveloping him in a one-armed hug. Wonpil was right, again, Hyunwoo smells so _good_.

“How are you, Jae?”

Right.

When was the last time he heard his name being said by his first love?

Had it always been like this when Hyunwoo said his name back then? Had the ants always been crawling inside his skin, making him weak in the knees, putting a wide smile on his face? Jae lets out a breath, quietly, _swooning_ , the whole VIP room fading into nothing, his and Hyunwoo’s big, big hand are still enclosing each other’s.

A boisterous laugh coming from Hani and Baekhyun are waking him up from his daydream. Jae pulls his hand back as if electrocuted, and covers his idiotic slip with a nervous chuckle.

“Great, hey! Wow, I can’t believe we’re here, dude.”

And if Hyunwoo catches anything weird from his response, he says nothing; just smiles with the apples of his cheeks lifted up, with his eyes crinkling, and with his plump lips saying, complimenting, “You look good, Jae. I heard you studied in Australia?”

“Auckland, actually,” Jae answers in an autopilot mode, “New Zealand.”

Hyunwoo makes a cute expression, a grimace.

“Kim Pencil told me you’re a lawyer now,” he continues, sitting back on his chair, shifting so Hyunsik can get into the conversation easily.

“Yeah,” Jae says, taking comfort of his childhood best friend’s name, “gotta keep my penchant for arguing to a good use.”

The three of them laugh, and the waiter is taking Jae’s order.

Hyunsik tells a story about his serving at Bangladesh and Mali, and that he’s getting married early next year. He tells them that they’re supposed to pick a number from 1 to 5 and that they’re going to have to move tables with their respective picked number mates in thirty minutes. Jiho came up with the seating plan so everybody will have a good time reacquainting each other. Hyunsik picked number 1, Hyunwoo 2, and Jae 3.

By the end of dinner, Jae is added to the group chat of their class by admin Jiho.

Jae stands next to Hyunwoo when it’s time to take group photo, with the restaurant’s manager himself volunteering to be the impromptu photographer. Hyunwoo wraps his heavy arm around Jae’s waist, pulling him closer, and Jae throws his around Hyunwoo’s shoulders. Everyone looks good in the photo.

Hyunwoo excuses himself from joining in to a club where Hyuk, stage name Dean, the hottest RnB singer, will perform. He has a schedule early in the morning. Jae watches as Hyunwoo takes photos with the girls, and his heart skips a beat when Hyunwoo looks up and meets his eyes, smiling, welcoming him to come closer. He’s waiting for his manager to pick him up anyway.

“Do you smoke?” Hyunwoo asks, glancing at some of their friends enjoying the cancer sticks nearby.

“Nope,” Jae shakes his head, “do you, mister best supporting actor?”

Hyunwoo smiles as an answer. Of course he doesn’t.

“You’re in the group chat, right?” Hyunwoo asks, pocketing his hands in the back pockets of his black jeans, puffing his chest out. He looks like Clark Kent, Jae’s mind uselessly thinks, while his heart is beating fastfastfaster.

“Yeah, why?” he asks back, throat dry.

Hyunwoo hums, always speaking his main point in a simple way. “I promised Wonpil we should have dinner together. Lunch, if you will.”

“Yeah,” and Jae sounds like parrot. “I’d like that.”

Hyunwoo smiles, nods, and it’s like they’re at 7-11 after Hyunwoo breaking off Jiho and Hyuk’s fight once again. Except that this time, it’s Hyunwoo who declares,

“I’ve missed you, Jae. I’m glad we can meet again.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

(Jae left when he was nineteen because he got an unassuming comment on that one song he uploaded a year earlier on his Soundcloud, asking him whether he was being vague with the pronoun because it was about a boy, right?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
>   
>  # help a bro to always write fics by commenting ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ
> 
> # [why comments make me a happy bro](https://twitter.com/thieflance/status/1015770473366372353)  
> 
> 
>   
> 


End file.
